


Sign 09: He can handle your friends.

by TerresDeBrume



Series: Signs he's a keeper [11]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Goddesses, Gods, Loki's friends are all crazy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Loki worries his friends might be a bit too much. In his defense, he doesn’t usually have <i>Tony</i> on his arm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sign 09: He can handle your friends.

**Author's Note:**

> OTP Challenge day 09: Hanging out with friends.
> 
> And with that, I'm now caught up and in the right order for this series. Again, my apologies for the screw up >

“Ooooh, I like him. He can stay.”  
  
Loki rolls his eyes, though he can’t quite figure if it is because of Coyote’s attitude toward Tony or the apalling quantity of product he put in his hair in order to make it lie flat against his skull… though at least, this time, he didn’t try cutting them himself again, the results of that were proven disastrous.  
  
“You’ve seen him all of ten seconds,” Loki says as he sets the liquors on the living room table and lets Tony take care of the glasses, “There’s no way you can make that kind of judgment that fast and hope to be accurate.”  
“I wasn’t wrong with Victor.”  
  
Beside him, Loki can feel Tony perk up -they’ve rarely discussed Victor, to be honest, mostly because Loki finds he doesn’t have much left to say about him these days… they still talk, occasionally, but the gaps are growing wider and less bothersome every time. It doesn’t sound like Victor is very bothered by that either, anyway, so this particular relationship is probably going to die a slow and quiet death.  
It’s not like Loki feels distressed over the idea anyway.  
  
“He’s not that bad,” he protests anyway, because it’s true. Victor isn’t  _that_  bad.  
“Victor,” Coyote tells Tony, “Is a capital D Douchebag who really only wanted Loki for his body and didn’t even show a modicum of compassion when Angrboda died and Fenrir got dumped in Loki’s arm. Yeah,” he adds for Loki’s benefit, “He really  _is_  that bad.”  
“Well,” Tony says, “At least I can certify I’m not indifferent to Fenrir. And I’m a funny guy, if nothing else.”  
“See?” Coyote tells Loki with a gesture of triumph, “This one is a keeper.”  
“Right,” Loki sighs with a good natured roll of his eyes, “You know what, you keep gushing on him and I’ll go talk with your more sensible half.”  
  
He leaves Tony alone with Coyote and his overly-greased hair in order to go find Bastet and Ororo. They are, unsurprisingly, in the kitchen, with Anansi pouting in the doorway.  
Loki hooks his head over his shoulder to watch them, and gets a peck on the forehead for his trouble, plus a slight frown when Anansi realizes there is foundation on it.  
  
“Honestly, I don’t get why you bother with all this make up, you’re already white as a polar bear’s ass.”  
“And you’re black enough to make a raven look pale,” Loki retorts, “Shall we plan for a Black and White cosplay?”  
  
In front of them, Ororo sniggers, the tail of her catwoman costume swishing behind her as she moves about in the kitchen and puts the last touches to Anansi’s birthday cake. Bastet, in a deep blue ball gown, turns to smile at him, before her eyes slide to where Tony and Coyote are probably still talking and she states:  
  
“He’s short.”  
“Maybe,” Anansi agrees, “But he’s not that bad looking, for an old man.”  
“He’s not  _old_ ,” Loki protests. “He’s only forty-three.”  
“Right,” Bastet nods with fake seriousness, “Only thirteen years’ difference, nothing to worry about.”  
“Oh come on,” Loki protests, “The last time I brought someone my age you protested he wasn’t mature enough.”  
“And then he proceeded to try and get you to dump your kid on other people so you could pretend you were still seventeen,” Ororo points out. “I still feel justified in that one.”  
  
Loki groans and covers his face with his hand but, really, he’s relieved not to feel any disapproval here, because it tends to make relationships difficult to keep. Also, he really, really, really likes this thing he has with Tony, and he’s not ready to let go of it yet. Or at all, really.  
  
“I think T’Challa likes him,” Bastet remarks after a short silence, “If the look on his face is any indication.”  
  
The look on T’Challa’s face being a slight frown, because this man is, for some reason, born with it, and he’s most dangerous when he smiles… just like all of the others there, really. Loki watches, amused, for a minute or two, until a Coyote produces two glasses of vodka -because Loki knows better than to assume water- and frowns when Tony refuses his.  
  
“Excuse me,” Loki tells the others, “I’ll be back in a second.”  
“Go rescue him, Lover boy,” Anansi says, prompting Loki to flip him the bird.  
  
By the time Loki crosses the living room -far too large for an apartment that side of New York, but then Anansi has never liked pretending he didn’t have money, hence the overly spacious living spaces anywhere he goes… not that Loki blames him, really, he even approved up until Fenrir came to live with him and he realized extra space meant extra dose of domestic chores.  
  
“I don’t drink,” tony is telling Coyote when Loki arrives next to them, “At all. You wouldn’t like me when I’m drunk.”  
“Come on,” Coyote teases, “It’s not like you’re an alcoholic or anything.”  
  
Tony’s smile turns equal parts annoyed, embarrassed and surprisingly apologetic, something Loki has never seen on his face before, and it makes something protective rise in his throat, makes him put an arm around Tony’s waist and stand at his side before he says:  
  
“F.I.M.”  
“Wait what?” Coyote asks while T’Challa mutters something like ‘awkward’ in his glass.  
“F.I.M?” Tony repeats, turning toward Loki, “Like, ‘foot in mouth’?”  
“We have a count,” Loki tells him. “Whenever we invite someone new to the pre-parties. Whoever has the highest tally gets to do the cleanup.”  
“Oh,” Tony smirks, “I like that tradition. It sounds like fun.”  
“It is,” T’Challa approves, “Especially if you leave Coyote to make the first bits of conversation.”  
“Oh, sod off.”  
  
Loki grins and Tony snorts as Ororo, Bastet and Anansi come out of the kitchen to join them around the drinks table. Tony inspects their costumes -Coyote and Bastet’s Jack and Rose, Ororo and T’Challa as Catwoman and her Cat pet, Anansi dressed in the Massaï garb he inherited from his Grandfather.  
  
“So,” Tony asks around once they’re all assembled, “Loki said this was a pre-party?”  
“It’s the intimate part of the night,” Anansi tells him, “We’re only just here to make sure we all look fabulous enough to beat everyone else into the ground.”  
“Oh,” Tony says, “We win then. I mean, Loki is clearly the best looking-woman here and Gomez Addams certainly beats Jack Dawson.”  
“Not true,” Coyote protests, but Ororo and T’Challa are nodding with the air of great connoisseurs and so Coyote’s protests are overlooked.  
“Alright,” Bastet tells them before the conversation can go south, “I call dibs.”  
“Dibs on what?” Tony asks, silence settling for less than ten seconds before his eyes widen in understanding: “Me? Isn’t Coyote your husband or something?”  
“He’s welcome to join,” Bastet smiles, sharp like a knife.  
  
She makes a gesture to reach for Tony, and Loki pulls him back at the same time as Ororo and T’Challa pretend to tackle Bastet and Coyote to the ground, Anansi laughing on the sideline.  
  
“Oh come  _on_  T’Challa, you need to stop taking Loki’s word for gold, he’s a liar!” Coyote protests as he tries to extricate himself from the octopus-like embrace T’Challa has him in.  
“I saw the look on his face after he spent a night with the two of you,” T’Challa retorts, which prompts Tony to turn to Loki and asks:  
“You had sex with them?”  
“Just the once,” Loki answers, “Never again. You have good stamina I’ll grant you that but the two of them are confirmed marathon runners, and they chug Redbull like water.”  
“You make us sound like some kind of sex gods,” Bastet laughs, and Loki takes his best frightened face:  
“Incubi is closer to the truth.”  
  
Beside him, Tony is laughing heartily, head thrown back and throat exposed, and Loki wants to kiss it so badly it twists his stomach in knots, but he swallows it down and just tightens his fingers around Tony’s waist, presses a little closer to him with a smile on his lips.  
  
“I like your friends,” Tony tells him when he’s done laughing and the others are all busy getting drinks or, in Coyote’s case, answering the door. “They’re funny.”  
“They get scary after a while,” Loki warns him.  
“I can handle them if you can.”  
“Alright,” Loki concedes, “But no sex with the Dreaded Couple unless I’m on vacation. I’d rather have you fully alive in my bed, thanks.”  
  
Tony laughs and kisses him until there is little to no lipstick left on his mouth.  
  
Loki can’t honestly say that he minds.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and critiques are always appreciated, here or [on Tumblr](http://terresdebrumestories.tumblr.com/ask) :)


End file.
